


We Can’t Pretend We Won’t Go

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe, Dysfunctional Relationships, Hero Complex, Homelessness, M/M, Overdose, Transphobia, You Have Been Warned, angst but no happy ending, read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25762747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Frank has been running for twenty minutes now, looking wildly around, calling. He knows Gerard must be around here somewhere.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	We Can’t Pretend We Won’t Go

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags.  
> Trigger warning for major character death, homelessness, transphobia, addiction and overdose.

Frank has been running for twenty minutes now, looking wildly around, calling. He knows Gerard must be around here somewhere. Knows he will have hidden in the park near the old school where his daughter went when she was younger. Even though she and her mother moved away more than three years ago, he is known sometimes to be found sheltering under a copse of trees where pine needles make the ground soft and fragrant, often with a bottle for company. Frank runs along the path by the swings and slide and up to the park house. The trees are silhouetted against the twilight city skyline. 

Frank ducks under the low branches and when he spots a huddled figure propped against the trunk of a tree softly calls “Gerard. Gee. Are you ok?” There is no reply. He touches Gerard’s arm gently. He is cold. Frank sighs. “Ah shit. You couldn’t have waited for me?” 

He presses his fingers into the side of Gerard’s pale neck, breathing hard. He feels nothing. No pulse, no movement. Then “You dumb bastard. You couldn’t try one more time? Fuck.” Frank inhales raggedly, fighting pricking tears and steadies himself on the tree. After a few deep breaths, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls the coroner. He speaks professionally, low and calm. Covering his shaking hands and clenching stomach with practiced ease. He has been sharing bad news with families and liaising with hospitals and police for years. It is never easy. But this. This is something else. 

While he waits for the ambulance, he strokes Gerard’s cold hand and watches bats flitter beyond the branches. Warm tears pour silently down his cheeks. 

***** ***** ***** 

They first met in a bar one New Year’s Eve when they were both drunk, a little high and more than a little lonely. They talked, they danced, they kissed a little. Both of them were too far gone for anything more but there was something. A moment when, if you had been watching from the other end of the bar, you would have said “that is what a spark looks like.” 

Neither thought to share phone numbers but as they staggered out of the doors, the last to leave the bar, whatever instinct remained in his whisky-soaked brain made Gerard say “come to my brother’s comic book launch”. He gave Frank a flyer from his jacket pocket before wobbling off down the street to the subway. Frank nodded then slowly and deliberately folded the flyer and tucked it in the back pocket of his jeans. It was over a week before he found it again and remembered hazel eyes, a crooked smile and a warm voice telling him how proud he is of his brother’s comics. 

The launch is at a small comic shop in an old arcade. The shop is piled so high with comic, books, games and action figures that there is no space for the signing. Frank spots a handwritten sign with an arrow pointing to dim and creaky stairs and a dusty room where the low January sun is bright. Dust motes spin where they have been disturbed by the quietly waiting queue of fans. Frank is surprised by how many people are waiting. He wonders what fame looks like in the comic book world and a wave of awkwardness washes over him. Will anyone notice he doesn’t know anything about Gerard’s brother’s comic? Should he have read his book before looking like he was pretending to be a fan? He picks up a copy of Collapser from the pile on the desk that has been set up with pens and a sign reading “Mikey Way” for the occasion. The cover is intriguing - a tall, blue-black figure has a whirling black hole at the centre of his chest. Frank smiles. He knows what that feels like. 

Before he can flip through the pages, he notices a ripple of attention in the queue around him and turns toward the stairs. A tall, slim blond haired man in a long black coat like the one on the book cover has appeared. He smiles shyly at the waiting fans. Behind him is a smaller dark haired man dressed all in black with a grey and black striped scarf. His hazel eyes are warmed by a bright smile when he sees Frank. While Mikey gets settled and talks to the manager of the comic shop, Gerard wanders, almost casually, over to Frank. 

“Hi. I wasn’t sure you’d remember.” 

“If I’m going to be really honest I didn’t at first. I found the flyer and was curious.” 

“Honesty is cool. I wasn’t sure I would remember what you looked like. I was pretty hammered.” 

Frank laughs and Gerard’s smile is blinding. 

“I think we’re even.” 

The signing starts. Frank is surprised by Mikey’s quiet attention to each person who brings books to sign. He quickly realises that Collapser isn’t Mikey’s first comic book. Fans bring many other comics to and tell him what comic they read that made them a fan. Many also talk about how important his comics have been in their lives, how they have helped them survive hard times. The afternoon disappears into evening as the three of them talk and laugh after the signing. After a meal in a nearby Thai restaurant, Mikey eventually has to return home to his wife. Gerard and Frank look at each other as he leaves. 

Frank breaks the silence. “Your brother is impressive.” 

“I taught him everything he knows.” 

“Jerk.” 

“Yes. I have never pretended to be anything else.” 

Frank laughs, giggles even. 

“And you. You don’t pretend either. I can see everything about you on your face.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Your feelings are really easy to read.”

“Yeah? What am I feeling right now?” Frank lifts his chin, challenging. 

“You want to come home with me.” 

“I do.” 

“But there’s something else.” Frank hums assent. “You don’t know how to say you don’t want sex tonight. You are scared of offending me. You think I will feel rejected.” 

Frank raises an eyebrow. “Wow. You got all that from my face?” 

“Yep. I might have been projecting a little.” Gerard hesitates, reaches out his hand across the table. Frank slides a hand out to meet it and gently strokes his fingers. 

“Your place? A movie? Snacks? Beer? Maybe a cuddle. No pressure?” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

***** ***** *****

Over the next weeks, over meals in diners, in cinemas and in each other’s apartments, they grow closer, become affectionate, find out more about each other. They are alike in many ways - in their thirties, tried creative lives in their twenties that didn’t quite work out. Gerard started out writing and drawing comics, has a degree in illustration but found the life stressfully unstructured and moved to teaching art in a community college when depression threatened to overwhelm him. Frank led a moderately successful post-hardcore band for a few years but drifted when they split up and qualified as a social worker instead. Now he works with homeless people, people who hide in drugs and alcohol to escape pain and trauma. 

They are both divorced. Gerard’s wife, Lindsey, and his daughter, Bandit, moved away a few years ago though they still see each other regularly. Frank’s wife, Jamia, moved further away with their twin daughters and son to be closer to her family so he only sees them a few times a year. 

Neither of them were looking for anything special when they walked into that bar but both feel like they have found something important. They just haven’t said it aloud yet because they are both scared of the damage they could cause. There is no talk of love or moving in together but they do spend some part of every day they aren’t working together. They are both aware that they are protecting the other from the most damaging parts of themselves and, for all their early words about honesty, neither is really presenting all of their flaws. 

Frank realises he is putting on a show one evening when his phone rings while he is having a night in at Gerard’s apartment. It is a number he recognises but isn’t someone who should know his. It is Sadie. She is a 19 year old trans girl who he helped find a women’s shelter that would accept her. She had been kicked out onto the streets by her parents who refused to accept her. She had attended the emergency room when she overdosed on heroin and Frank had spent weeks getting her to trust him enough to find somewhere to live that she would be safe. 

“Hey Sadie. What’s up?” 

He heard Sadie sniffing. At first she didn’t answer. 

“Sadie, help me out here.” 

“You’re going to be angry with me.” 

“Sadie, you know I only get angry at sports and people who mistreat animals. C’mon, what’s going on?” 

“I hit someone.” 

“Who did you hit, Sadie?” 

“I hit that bitch, Jen. She said I shouldn’t be here and misgendered me and laughed at me. So I hit her. Then that woman who runs this place said it was my fault and I was on my final warning. She’s lucky I didn’t hit her.” 

Frank sighs. Gerard looks up quizzically from his drawing. Sadie mutters “I said you’d be angry.” 

“I’m not angry.”

“Yes, you are.” 

“Ok, a bit - but only with them. Not with you.” 

“It would be easier if I was dead.” 

“Oh Sadie. They are in the wrong, not you. Don’t let them beat you.” 

“I am beaten, Frank. They always beat me.” Sadie’s voice is getting smaller and smaller. Frank looks at Gerard helplessly. Gerard mouths “do you need to go?” Frank nods and shrugs apologetically. 

“Sadie, I will be over in twenty minutes,”

“But you don’t work late at night. I will be fine until tomorrow.” 

“Will you? Honestly?” 

Almost inaudibly, Sadie says “I don’t know.” 

“Twenty minutes. Don’t go anywhere,” says Frank ending the call. 

As he gets up to put on his jacket and shoes, Gerard looks at him carefully. Frank feels the intensity of his stare and frowns at him. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“No. If it’s an emergency you need to go… but …”

“But what?” 

“This isn’t what social workers usually do, is it?” 

“No. But I can’t leave her like that. She has been a suicide risk before and it wouldn’t take much for her to be again.” 

“And she has your personal number.” 

“So? She is at risk.” 

“Um. Ok. Just be careful, Frank. And … I will miss you.” 

Frank places a soft kiss on the top of Gerard’s head saying “miss you too. Tomorrow night at mine?” 

Gerard agrees and Frank leaves. Frank is surprised that he feels relieved. His shoulders have been tense since Gerard questioned him and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t see Gerard reaching for a bottle of vodka he had hidden down the side of the sofa cushions the moment he heard the rattle of the door closing. 

Neither knows how much the other lies. Gerard lies about just how much he drinks to get through the day and the pills that he buys online because his doctor won’t prescribe them any more. Frank lies about just how much he needs his job because his life is empty and the only thing that gives him any sense of worth is coaxing people on the streets back into some kind of life. Not even being with Gerard has changed that.

***** ***** *****

Frank spots Mikey at the funeral. He is clutching the hand of a woman with a friendly face and blonde hair like she is the only thing keeping him anchored to the ground. His eyes are red and his expression blanker than Frank could ever have imagined. 

Frank goes to shake his hand and speak but the words refuse to come out. He just splutters and Mikey’s wife smiles kindly. She thanks him for coming to pay his respects to Gerard and Frank nods. Mikey quietly mutters “I don’t know what that asshole brother of mine was thinking. He hated organised religion but for some reason his will said he wanted his funeral in the fanciest church he could find. And with a priest. Such a drama queen.” 

Frank snorts with bubbling laughter and Mikey flashes him a tiny smile. It is the closest Frank has come to breathing since that night under the trees. 

***** ***** *****

Frank finds out about Gerard’s lies slowly. He is beginning to wonder if Gerard is bipolar because sometimes when he visits after work he is unable to speak. Gerard calls into work sick and stays in bed for days, unwashed and snappy when asked to get up. Other times he is chatty, alert, creative, gregarious, sleepless, unusually horny and Frank fears he will not be enough for him. 

One day Frank answers a call in Gerard’s apartment while he has gone to buy take out. It is Gerard’s ex wife, Lindsey. Frank has met her before, likes her but they rarely speak. There’s always some reason involving Gerard why they just don’t get a full conversation. 

When he answers the phone, Lindsey sounds stressed. “Is Gerard there? I have been trying to speak to him for days.” 

Frank explains he’s out. Lindsey sounds surprised. “You let him go out on his own? You think he’s ok to do that considering?” 

“Considering what?” 

Lindsey sighs. “Oh Frank. Has he ever told you?” 

“For fuck’s sake. I knew it was too good to be true.” 

Frank sits down at the kitchen table and Lindsey explains why she and Gerard split up and why he no longer has unsupervised contact with his daughter. It is a tale of depression, alcohol and prescription drug addiction that resulted in Gerard’s daughter being left alone at home while Lindsey was away working and Gerard went on a 48 hour bender. It was only by chance that Mikey visited Gerard’s home and found his 5 year old niece screaming out of a first floor bedroom window. Gerard was devastated and contrite when he sobered up and agreed to move out. Lindsey knows he has tried recovery but says he has been relapsing regularly, including while he has been with Frank. 

“I thought he’d told you, Frank. You’re a social worker. I thought he knew you would understand and he could be honest.” 

“He never said a word, Linds. I know we didn’t talk about everything but this. This is big. I wondered though. He is pretty erratic. I thought he was ill.” 

“He is ill, Frank.” 

“I know. I thought … Oh shit. He’s coming back. I need to talk to him. Thanks for explaining, Linds.” 

Gerard calls out cheerily as he closes the front door - his hands full of take out bags of food. When he appears in the kitchen Frank can see the moment he reads the expression on his face. Gerard’s face falls and then he quietly asks if Frank wants him to leave. 

“Why would I want you to leave?” 

“Because I am a lying addict and you deserve better.”

“Don’t put words into my mouth, Gee. I am angry right now because you lied to me but I still love you.” 

“I thought you only got angry at sports and animal cruelty.” 

“Not the time to be a smart ass, Gee. How about you tell me your side of the story so I can work out if you are anywhere close to the person I thought you were.” 

“I love you too, Frank. I think you might need to hear that now because the rest of this is not pretty.” 

“You know I understand that life can be difficult, Gee. Talk to me. Let me help.” 

Gerard’s expression becomes icy. “That is what I was trying to avoid. I am not your case, Frank. I am not some damaged child you can rescue. I am an adult, making stupid decisions. I have tried too many times to recover from my addictions to be patronised by another person who thinks they know better than I do how to deal with this shit. You don’t. Neither do I right now but it won’t happen if you try to do this for me.” 

“Gee, that’s not fair. I am not trying to rescue you” 

“You really are. You try to rescue everyone. I see you working. You love being the hero who saves all those lost souls. But it doesn’t work like that. I have to do it myself and right now - you know - I just don’t want to.” 

Frank moves closer to Gerard, tries to touch his arm, slide an arm around his waist to draw him close but Gerard shrugs him off. 

“You know what. I am not doing this now. See you around. Maybe.” 

The door slams shut so hard a container of noodles topples and spills across the kitchen floor. 

***** ***** *****

Gerard disappears. It is like he never existed. His brother and ex-wife hear nothing from him and help Frank call hospitals and police to see if he has been seen. After a few weeks, Frank stops visiting his apartment to see if Gerard has been back there. 

Frank throws himself into his work. He takes as many overtime shifts at the hostel as he can, never goes out socially, just works and sleeps. 

It is New Year’s Eve. A year since they met. Frank has volunteered for the annual overnight street homeless count in the city. He is wrapped up in nearly every scarf, hat, hoody, thick socks and padded coat he owns. His buddy for the night, Keira, has worked with him for years and knows that tonight marks a painful anniversary. She gives him a hug before they set out from the hostel with a list of streets to cover. He is grateful that she says nothing about the occasion. 

After three hours walking the freezing streets they stop to share a coffee from Keira’s flask. The last street is a long quiet road with industrial units on either side. They know the people who often sleep here don’t want to be visible like those on busy shopping streets for a number of reasons - safety, avoiding people who might know them. In a doorway sheltered from the biting winter wind a pile of blankets stir and a head with a grey beanie, bleached white blond hair and hazel eyes peer out at the flash of Frank’s torch. Frank gasps. 

“Gee?” 

“Frankie? Shit.”

Keira nudges Frank. “Is that him?” 

“Yeah,” Frank whispers, afraid to startle him away. 

Gerard hunches down into his blankets and rolls over, turning his back on Frank. 

“Gee.” 

“Go away.” 

“Please.” 

“Go away.” 

“No.” 

“You got a white horse anywhere? Planning on rescuing me?” 

“No. I have coffee.” 

Gerard is silent. Frank whispers to Keira “can I borrow your flask? You can go home. I think we’re finished now.”

“You sure?” Keira replies. 

“Yep. You be safe getting home,” says Frank. 

Keira hands over the nearly full flask of hot coffee, says goodnight quietly to Frank and Gerard and trudges off into the night. Frank crouches near Gerard and pours a cup of coffee from the flask. He leaves it near where Gerard’s head had emerged from the blankets and waits. After a couple of minutes, a gloved hand sneaks out, takes the cup and it disappears into the blanket heap. Frank keeps refilling the cup until all the coffee is gone. He rests his hand gently on the blankets for a moment then walks slowly home. When he closes the door to his warm apartment behind him, tears begin to fall. 

Frank goes to visit Gerard every night with hot drinks and food. They don’t speak. Frank tells Mikey and Lindsey that he has found Gerard and that he is ok but that he is not ready to come back. 

One night when Frank arrives at Gerard’s doorway, hot coffee and poppyseed bagel in hand, he is sitting up and looks carefully at Frank. 

“I meant what I said before, Frank. I don’t want you to rescue me.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I still love you but anything else needs to happen because you choose it.” 

“Right. And I meant that I love you, Frank. It was a lousy time to say that first.” 

“You’re telling me.” 

“Jerk.”

“Your jerk.” 

“Still?” There is a hint of Gerard’s crooked smile. 

“If you want me to be.” 

“Of course I do. I just need to get myself clean first. You deserve that.”

“You deserve that.” 

“Frank,” Gerard says warily. 

“Sorry. No social work pep talks. I just …” 

“What?” 

“I really fucking miss you.”

Gerard reaches out a hand. Frank takes it, strokes his fingers through his gloves. He breathes deeply and sighs. For once, the anxious black hole in his chest spins slower, fades. 

The following night, they talk about what Gerard has been doing and, eventually, Gerard agrees that Frank will collect him the next day at 6pm and will take him to a rehab centre. 

***** ***** *****

Frank is just finishing work at the hostel. He has an hour to walk to meet Gerard and take him to the rehab centre. His phone rings as he is walking out the door. It is the manager of Sadie’s women’s shelter asking for Frank to visit as she has been talking about killing herself again. Frank tries to find someone else to visit Sadie, explains he has finished his shift, hopes it is not as serious as it sounds, says he has somewhere he needs to be. He knows it’s futile though - she doesn’t talk to anyone but him.

He thinks Gerard will understand. After all Gerard wanted to change, wanted to recover this time. 

He spends nearly four hours with Sadie. Eventually it is decided that she will be admitted to hospital so he can leave. He runs to where he was going to meet Gerard. He has gone and there is an empty pill bottle amongst his blankets. 

The black hole in Frank’s chest just keeps growing.

**Author's Note:**

> I just started writing wondering where it would lead me and this was the result. I think I needed to work something out which, apparently, was really bleak. I am a social worker and worry about people who regard the work like Frank does, rescuing others as a way to rescue themselves.  
> I am sorry for what I did to Gerard in the process.  
> Thanks to Mikey Way for an excellent metaphor for anxiety. Title from Action Cat by Gerard Way.


End file.
